Beautiful Dangerous
by BlossomPrincess16
Summary: Hermione Granger isn't a muggleborn, like she has been led to believe all her life, but is actually the daughter of Lord Voldemort and his late wife. The light isn't alway good, she quickly learns, and Draco finds that he doesn't mind to be the one to show her what the truth of the wizarding world is. AU - Dramione - Dark themes
1. All or Nothing

This has been floating around in my head for some time. It's a bit darker then my other Dramione _Auribus Teneo Lupum, _so I'm excited to start something a bit different. Don't fear though, Auribus will continue to be updated!

Let me know what you think!

..00..

The first time Hermione questioned her Muggle heritage was during her second year. The monster from the Chamber of Secrets had been unleashed and had met her as she rounded a corner, shocking her as she stared at it. She had been so sure that she was about to be petrified, but the giant basilisk just kept moving, leaving her completely unharmed.

She had wanted to tell someone about it, to see if there was an explanation, but fear of the truth kept her lips tightly sealed.

The second time was in her fifth year, during the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries. She had come face to face with the Dark Lord and had been sure she would be killed, but he had froze, staring at her with an unreadable expression.

She had once again wanted to tell someone, anyone, in hopes of a good explanation, only to once again keep quite in fear.

The third time was now, as she sat in the Potions classroom. She had been asked to stay after class and while she was sure she hadn't done anything wrong, she still worried her lip. It was her sixth year and she had silently been hoping that it would be a quiet semester, though Ron and Harry had been convinced that Malfoy was up to something. She tried to tune them out, but they seemed to be determined to prove he had joined the Death Eaters.

When she had walked up to his desk at the front of the classroom she wasn't sure what she expected, though for Snape to reach out and nick her finger hadn't even been a thought. Before she had even made a sound he had held her finger out and allowed some blood to drip into a foul smelling potion. She had been so shocked that she simply stood and watched as the potion turned from a deep brown to a startling green. Snape swore under his breath and the door at the back of the classroom slammed shut.

"Prof- Professor, I don't understand." She had managed to get out as he paced back and forth.

He stopped, his robes billowing out and swirling around his lanky frame. "Your whole life has been a lie. It's been one huge bloody lie and now I have to find a way to make it right."

A lie? Surely he had gone mad.

"You've noticed small things, haven't you? Things that didn't quite add up?"

She paused, thinking back to her second and fifth year. How could he have known about those? About her own doubts?

"You're not a bloody muggleborn like you've been led to believe your whole miserable life. No." He let out a bark of laughter which scared her far more then anything else he had done. "You want to understand? That potion is a bit of that the blasted "light" would call dark magic. It tests the blood status, black for muggles, purple for muggleborns, green for halfbloods, and gold for purebloods. That potion turned green, Miss Granger, though I now have little doubt that your last name isn't truly Granger."

She sat down on the nearest chair, her heart somewhere around her feet.

"After the stupid stunt you and your bloody friends pulled at the Department of Mysteries the Dark Lord himself asked me to test your blood." He stopped once more and came close to where she sat. "Do you want to know why he wanted me to do that? Do you?" He sneered at her.

Did she? Surely this was all a bad dream and she would soon wake up, but what if she didn't? Pinching herself seemed like a stupid thing to do, so she simply nodded. She did, after all, want to know the truth.

Snape stared at her before leaning back against his desk, the most casual she'd ever seen her professor be. "The Dark Lord has been rumored to be incapable of love, though I can assure you that is simply a rumor. The story I have to tell you cannot be uttered within this school, where Dumbledore has ears everywhere. No, if you truly want to know, then I need you to do something you may find reprehensible."

Why did she get the feeling that her whole life was about to change? Did she really want it to? Would Snape just let her leave and forget about this whole thing? Common sense told her no, told her that her only real choice was to go along with whatever this was.

"In three days Draco Malfoy will come up to you and ask you to follow him. All you need to do is that; follow him. It is a Hogsmeade weekend and I have it on goood authority that this one won't be canceled."

Her eyes widened. "You want me to follow someone whom everyone thinks is a Death Eater?" She tried to keep her voice down just in case anyone was close by, but even she could hear how high her voice had gotten.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "If you want to find out the truth then following a supposed Death Eater will be the least of your worries."

She had always been told that she would reach times where there would be a fork in the road and she would have to choose which path she wanted to follow. She always assumed she would know exactly which one to follow, but now she wasn't so sure. Yes, she wanted to know who she really was, had wanted to know since her second year, but at what cost? What if this was all a trap and Harry and Ron had been right?

_But what if this tells you everything you've been yearning to know? _a small voice asked. What if indeed.

"Okay. I'll do it. I'll follow him."

Snape simply nodded and gestured for her to leave, which she did as fast as she could.

Snape, however, let out the breath he had been holding. He really hadn't been sure if she would agree, but really, who would turn down the chance to learn who he or she really was? The potion proved what had already been guessed: that she wasn't a muggleborn. He glanced down at the small bit of blood that hadn't gone into the cauldron and bent over to pick up the small vial that he had been given the last time he was summoned. He took the stopper off and carefully poured the contents into another vial before adding the tiny bit of Hermione's blood to the mix. The color turned a bright red almost instantly and he breathed a sigh of relief. He had been correct, as had the Dark Lord.

Hermione Granger was none other than Lord Voldemort's missing daughter.

..Draco..

He truly couldn't believe what he was hearing; surely his godfather had gone off the deep end.

"Uncle Severus, there's no way that our resident muggleborn is the Dark Lord's daughter."

The older man merely lifted an eyebrow.

"There's no way! She's best friend with Harry Potter and Weasel! She's a Gryffindor!"

"Have you forgotten that her mother was also a Gryffindor?"

Draco sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. "You really believe she's his daughter?"

"I wouldn't risk my own neck if I didn't believe she was." Snape relaxed and took a seat next to his godson. "I know you've been under a lot of stress lately. You've had to take on numerous roles that you weren't ready for and have managed to not break under the pressure, but I must ask you take on one more. If she is truly whom I believe she is, then it is your duty to protect her."

The young man looked off into the dark of Professor Snape's office before sighing. "If she is then I'd protect her with my life."

Snape clasped a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You've made us all so proud already; you deserve the title you were given shortly after her birth."

Draco nodded and stood up, dusting off the invisible lint from his trousers. "Just tell me where to do and I'll make sure she gets there."


	2. I Will Go To War

Draco hated the Christmas season, hated the day that _she _disappeared. He could remember it vividly, still feel his mother's anguish as she found her best friend lying dead in the snow. His father had frantically searched for _her, _but his efforts were fruitless. All of the guards lay dead as well, and he truly thought his mother would kill them if they hadn't been. She had known something was wrong, but they had been too late. He also remembered how he shouldn't have been there, but he never really understood why he had been.

After all, he'd only been seven. Too young to see so much death.

He sighed, running his hands through his already messy hair. He couldn't get the possibility that Hermione Granger could be _her. _He almost couldn't even be normal around her in class, wanting to fall all over himself and find out if she was who Snape said she was, but tomorrow was finally the day.

What would he do if she was? Would she even believe them? The Dark Lord had been told, and it was only his trust in Snape kept him at bay, though he doubted it would last much longer. The man had always been such an enigma, even during his time of recouping, that the idea that he had broken down at the mere suggestion that _she _was still alive was more than he could handle.

It also made him feel better about his own reaction.

He tried to gauge how Granger - he couldn't call her by her real name until he knew for sure - was doing, but it seemed she was going out of her way to avoid him. He didn't blame her, of course; he was just glad she hadn't seemed to report anything to Dumbledore.

At the thought of the old man his blood ran cold and rage exploded from his chest. It was all his fault, _her _mother's death was all on him. It killed him to see people falling all over theirselves trying to be in the good graces of the wonderful Dumbledore, when he knew the truth.

Sighing once more he turned onto his stomach in an attempt at sleep. Sleep, ha, like he would be getting much of that. His mind wouldn't stop replaying the seven years he had spend with _her, _his childhood best friend. He was supposed to have protected her, and even though he had only been seven he still felt guilt. He blamed himself even through no one else did.

Sleep must have come eventually because light was beginning to come through the windows that had been charmed to mimic what the sun would do if he wasn't in the dungeon of the school. He drug a hand down his face and sat up, noticing that neither Crabbe nor Goyle were awake yet. They didn't know what he was privy to, so sleep came easy to the duo and that was something Draco was envious of.

Stretching his arms above his head he got out of bed and made his was to the bathroom. He was too nervous to even think about what this day could hold, so he tried to go through his normal routine to keep his mind busy.

After all, this could be a disaster.

If Granger really was _her, _how in the world were they going to convince her of the truth, let alone want to meet her father. Dumbledore had wove such a web of deceit that even he had second guessed himself once or twice. Was he really on the right side? Had his whole life been a lie? In his third year he had to have a long talk with his father about what was truth and what was lies.

And everything Dumbledore spread was a lie. He had seen his father's memories, knew what happened in his second year wasn't really the embodiment of young Tom Riddle releasing the Basilask upon the muggleborns ( he actually hates the term _mudblood, _and only used it to keep up the act ), but was really the so called light wanting to spread fear amongst everyone.

Every little thing had been a lie, and Draco was determined to make sure the truth was released.

He tried to remember what he could of _her _and her mother. Tom, as everyone who actually knew Voldemort called him, had been enamored with his wife and daughter. He could remember in his youth being fascinated with how the family made heads turn wherever they went - Tom with his pale skin and dark hair, he always towered over his petite wife. Oh, and his wife, Caterina. He remembered her short, curled hair that she often kept pulled back at the sides. He often had thought that it looked ethereal when out in the sunlight. She was short to Tom's tall, dark to his pale complexion. They were as opposite as two people could be, unlike his own mother and father, and he often thought _she _was a perfect blend of both.

At least, he had as a child.

He tried to think of what _she _would look like as a sixteen year old. Would she have kept her hair long, like in her youth? Or would she have been more like her mother, and kept it in a short, soft cloud around her head? Would she have been tall? Short? He then thought of Granger and was actually surprised he hadn't noticed the resemblance before. She was average height, a good balance between a short mom and tall father. Her hair actually reminded him of Caterina, only a much larger cloud.

He shook his head. If she was _her_, he'd do everything in his power to get her back.

..00..

Hermione wasn't scared.

No, she would never admit to being scared of following Draco Malfoy, but she was nervous.

Part of her, deep down, knew this would change her life forever. Nothing would be the same anymore, and she didn't quite know how she felt about that. She yearned for the truth, but could she handle what the truth was?

After all, she had never felt like she belonged. She kept it a secret from everyone around her, but the truth was there. She always felt a distance between her and her parents, like she didn't belong. She had always been told that she was the child of her mother's friend, who couldn't afford a child. The Granger's had been childless and had longed for a family, so they jumped at the chance. It explained some, but not all, of her sense of not belonging.

Even in school she felt like and outsider. Like there was something very important that she couldn't remember that would explain it all, but try as she might nothing changed. Ron was down Lavender's throat and Harry was occupied with Ginny, which left her alone. When you were alone no one noticed how you felt.

She was tired of being alone.

She watched as Malfoy headed straight for a part of Hogsmeade she hadn't ventured into before, slightly down a small road behind one of the tea shops. She didn't think she would have followed him if he lead her too far away, at least, she hoped she wouldn't. She wasn't a fool.

He stopped suddenly and she almost ran into him before she saw Snape up ahead. He nodded at them and gestured to a small shop that proclaimed they offered fresh bread and tea. The three of them made their way inside and took a seat at a tall, rounded table in the back corner. She felt the shimmer of magic when she sat and knew that Snape had cast a silencing charm around them.

She took in the scenery and noticed no one was even paying attention to them, and she wondered what kind of business what dealt here.

"Are you prepared for what I'm about to show you?"

She glanced up to meet her professor's eyes. "Show me?"

He nodded and pulled out a small pensieve out of the bag he carried. "No one here will pay any attention to us, let alone hear us. I have selected memories from my past as well as others that you will view, now have proof of what I suspected all along."

She noticed that Malfoy stiffened and whipped his head to Snape, while the older man simply turned towards the blonde and nodded. "What do you suspect?"

He pushed the pensieve towards her. "The answer lies in there."

She looked from Snape to Malfoy, trying to figure out of this was a smart move.

_Oh, what the heck? _She thought as she plunged herself into the memories.


End file.
